


Dreaming of the Void

by Cane_Jian



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-01-30 00:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21419509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cane_Jian/pseuds/Cane_Jian
Summary: "No cost to great? NO COST TO GREAT? Look, Wyrm! Behind me is a sea of corpses! CHILDRENS. CORPSES. Your "cost to great" has ALREADY been paid. No mind? No soul? No will? HA! Tell yourself what you have to to sleep at night, Vile King! Tell your allies whatever they want to hear, but I know the truth. They can DREAM. And that . . . that is enough for me."- Siris the Dreamsmith.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. Summons

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm kind of new to AO3, and this is my first Work here. I usually stick to SI fanfics, but this came to me recently, and seeing as my main problem writing seems to be that I loose interest before I can finish, I figured that something shorter may be a good idea. After watching SAD-ist's "Escapism" video, and doing some browsing in the Hollow Knight fandom, I came up with this. Hope you enjoy!

One question that always plagued the mind of Siris the moth, was “why does no one sell umbrellas in the city of tears?” A simple question, really, but one that almost always became relevant upon his visits. You see, moth's, unlike many other flying insects, have a delicate layer of powder like scales over their wings, that assist in flight. Obviously, having water wash said scales off would be rather bad. However, he always forgot to bring his own umbrella to the city with him.

This of course, lead the poor fellow to have to cover his wings with his cloak, and try to run as fast as his, proportionally small, legs could carry him, and then loiter in the nearest available building until it dried for him to continue. Normally, he would instead return to his home in the dry comfort of the resting grounds, rather than brave to horrid rain, however, today was not a day he had such a privilege. Today, he had a meeting with the King himself.

Rushing through the bustling crowds, cloak held shut tightly as possible, Siris groaned at the uncomfortable feeling of his rather feathery antennae being pressed down by the hood of his cloak as he ran. Spotting his destination, he put on an extra burst of speed, wanting to get out of the eternal downpour as soon as possible. In seconds he slid to a stop in front of two sentries who seemed to be guarding a hole in the pathway.

“Who goes . . . ” Siris cut the Guard-bug off by shoving a stone tablet with the royal seal on it into said guards face.

“Please hurry, my cloak may be water-resistant, but that only goes so far down here!” He snapped so fast his words blurred together.

The armoured beetle glanced over the tablet, before standing aside without a word.

Nodding his thanks Siris rushed into the tunnel, relieved to finally be out of the rain. Taking off his cloak, he began to shake it and ring it out, trying to gat as much moisture out of it as possible before he hand to continue. As he did this, he walked unto the elevator and kicked the leaver with his foot.

The constant clacking and squeaking of the elevators chains and gears helped to calm the rather stressed moth, allowing to take his mind off of the circumstances for a moment or two. However, it was not to last long, and after a minute or two, the elevator reached the bottom of the shaft with a smooth 'click'.

Siris shuddered as he walked off the elevator, his rather delicate wings vibrating with his uncertainty. “Why did his majesty insist on having his castle built in this horrid place?” he pondered out loud, his words seeming flat in the gloomy ambience of the Basin. “Mayhaps he just thought he'd shine all the brighter surrounded in this gloom?”

Banishing those thought's from his mind with a harsh shake, he strode out into the tunnels and began to walk towards the castle, trying to ignore the unsettles feeling that was rising in his stomach.

The ancient basin just felt dead. The ominous aura generated by the dark architecture and the overall lack of the animal life compared to the other part's of the kingdom only served to highlight that fact. The few creatures that did live there were strange, and twisted in a way that was difficult to describe, as if they lacked a will of their own.

The only exception to is rule were the Mawlek's, and even then, they were a recent addition to the Basin, having only recently begun to migrate from their native home in the crossroads, were they were starting to meet harsh opposition from the influx of foreign travellers.

Siris thought of these things as he passed through the cramped tunnels and passageways, needing something to focus on besides the eerie feeling of eyes on his back. He felt as if he was being watched. Watched by something . . . malevolent. He was all but certain that their was no one actually watching him, of course, and that he was in no danger. The sensation had, after all, popped up on all of his past( and admittedly, less legal) visits to the basin as well.

'Unless their really is something watching me.' A rebellious part of the moth's mind spoke. 'Unn, from what I'm told is aware of everything that happens in her domain(not that I've ever been to greenpath), what if another higher being is watching me?' Siris found that thought deeply unsettling, and unfortunatly, having nothing to distract himself from it, he found his over-active imagination fully exploring the possibility.

'It isn't the Pale King, I'd recognize his aura . . . at least I think I would . . . and if it was him, I would have been punished for all of the time's I've been down here without permission. If their is another Higher Being down here, however, it would explain why he built his castle down here. He does tend to clash with other higher beings, after all.'

'Knowing him, he certainly wouldn't tell anyone about it, and the presence of his castle would serve as a decent excuse for all the restrictions on entering the basin. But then again, I've broken in here to explore a half dozen times, so he's not having it guarded that thoroughly . . . or I'm just that good. No, I shouldn't think like that, that's how one gets caught!'

'I'll have to visit Greenpath soon, see if I can detect Unn. Maybe bring a few dream catcher's and some candles for meditation, and maybe some crystal's . . . what else . . .?'

He was roused from his thought's by the clacking sound of a shadow creeper crawling along the wall beside him, causing him to jump. In his moment of surprise, he flapped his wings, carrying himself head-first into the roof of the tunnel. He fluttered back down, muttering curses in the creeper's general direction.

While he knew that the creatures where more or less harmless from past experience, there was just something about them that unsettled him. Even dream-nailing them did nothing to explain their oddness, with creatures seemingly having no thoughts for the nail to pick up on.

Siris groaned and rubbed the back of his head in shame. 'I've fought dozens of giant beasts and savage warriors, and yet here I am panicking at the sight of an exotic Crawlid.' he thought shaking his head and he turned the corner and jumped down a ledge, using his wings to slow his fall with practised ease.

Reaching the bottom, he took off at a sprint(Or as much of a sprint as he was able. Again, moths had short legs.) for his destination, tired of the smothering aura of the basin. Withing a few minutes, he was passing through the entrance to the cavern that held the castle of the Pale King, relief flowing through him.

The white palace was as lovely as ever, several stories of shimmering white . . . well, he didn't know exactly what, surrounded by a sea of shimmering metallic blades that reflected the structures pale glow. Rather than walk, Siris opened his wings and fluttered to entrance, wanting to minimize the time spent out in the open.

Reaching the front gate, he began to look himself over to insure that he was presentable. He pulled his white cloak over his wings delicately, though it was still slightly damp, the fine silk complimenting his red brown fur nicely. Running his hands over his chest, and adjusted his dream-catcher shaped necklace's so that they were centred properly. He quickly checked to make sure that, yes, his nails were hung properly under his cloak, and all of his equipment was in the pouch at his waist.

Pulling a comb from said pouch, he ran it over his chest, brushing off any dust that may be stuck in his thankfully dry fur, before turning his attention to his antenna, ensuring that they were straitened out from their earlier squashing under his cloak. Finally sure he wasn't going to embarrass himself before the King, he showed one of the guard his summons, seemingly unashamed that he had just used the flawlessly polished armour of the said guard as a mirror.

Soon enough he was walking down to halls of the White Palace, guards flanking him on either side, nails in one hand and shields in the other. As he walked down said halls, he took note of all the decor, in order to keep his mind from wandering to places he would rather it not wander.

The inside of the glowed just as brightly on the inside as the outside, do to some combination of magic and lumafly lanterns, leading Siris to question how anyone was supposed to get any sleep inside. A second later he decided it was a stupid question and that the servant's quarters were probably just darker.

The white palace was a truly massive structure, large enough in fact to rival the hive, making any journey through it an admittedly boring thing. Yes, the decor was lovely, as was to be expected or the pale kings home, but the shear repetitive of it made it difficult to navigate. How was one supposed to navigate in here? Even if you had the entire floor plan memorized, the lack of “landmarks” made the rooms seem to blur together. 'Of course, that would also make it difficult for thieves and assassins', he thought. 

Eventually, after walking many hallways and riding many elevators(how tall was the palace?) they reached the thrown room. Without a word, the retainer bowed and left, leaving Siris alone with the king.

Approaching the king of hallownest, he felt an odd sort of tension, like static pressing down on his shoulders. A light headed feeling overcame him as he grew closer, similar to how he felt the times he had flown too high to dived two quickly in flight(which was a rare thing, as he could achieve impressive velocity).

Finally, he reached the foot of the thrown, and fell to on knee in a bow. “My lord, I have come as summoned.”

Several seconds passed , before a regal voice spoke. “Rise, Siris, son of Silan, and gaze upon me.”

Rising to his feet(or whatever foot-analog's moth's had) Siris only now realized that he had walked to the base of the thrown with his eyes glued to the floor, and only now could look upon the king.

Siris had, of course, seen the king before, during royal parades. However, that was always from a distance, and never had he met the king's eyes. Now, doing so, he found himself almost blinded by the pale light of the wyrm.

His breath caught in his throat, and something in his chest echoed with joy as the god of Hallownest spoke. “We, have much to discuss, master Dreamsmith."


	2. Meeting the King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

To say Siris was feeling rather stressed, would be an understatement. He was alone with the most powerful bug in Hallownest, being led through a series of back chambers and tunnels, which were notably less decorated than the rest of the palace. Even walking a full five paces behind the pale king, the higher beings presence was simply intoxicating, making it hard to think properly, and leading his mind to jump all over the place.

Even though it was his first time seeing the Kings light like this, un-suppressed and Pure, he could understand the sheer reverence that the Wyrm's personal knight's and retainers felt. Seeing that every day, no matter how short the exposure . . . it must have been addicting in a way nothing else could be. Siris didn't know how to feel about that(Terrified, he felt terrified).

Siris didn't know much about the King, in truth, a fact that irked him to no end. He prided himself on being the most knowledgeable bug available in basically any setting, and was a self proclaimed pantomath. For the sum total of his knowledge to have so large and blatant a hole in it . . . 

He had tried to learn more about the king, he really had! However, finding anything beyond what was publicly available was a chore in and of itself, and he had only recently learned anything beyond what most every other historian knew. Oh yes, he knew the kings supposed origin, how he was a great Pale Wyrm who had “Took on the form of lesser bugs” and “ascended their minds” and all that. He knew about the various treaties and such with the surrounding nations, and all the famous battles. But how much of that actually gave him information on the kings nature? Not much.

'Of course, the king wouldn't ask for me to meet him in person if he just wanted me dead, so I'm probably safe from that much at least for the moment . . . ' he thought.

Several minutes of walking later (Siris trying to memorize the route and add it to his mental map . . . and failing) they came to a dark tunnel with dirt walls. Entering to tunnel, Siris couldn't help but wonder what the propose of it was. Why would the king have a chamber like this? Why would he want to be surrounded by normal earth instead of the finery of the rest of the palace? 'Of course, he was once a Wyrm that tunnelled through said earth.' Siris thought, glancing at the King's back. 'For all I know, he's more comfortable with dirt walls like this and the finery is simply to impress guests.'

At the end of the dirt tunnel, he found that they were in some sort of workshop. Bits and pieces of white metal were scattered all over the place, some looking like parts of sphere's and others appearing to be parts for a miniaturized version of a mining golem. Several specimens of the more potent crystals harvested from the peak were displayed with various pieces of research equipment and glowing white journals scattered around them.

“Welcome to my personal laboratory.” The Pale King spoke, starling Siris out of his observations. “Rather impressive, is it not?” the Wyrm asked proudly, turning around to face the moth.

“Well, my lord . . . ” Siris began, before trailing off and looking around again. “I think that your equipment is certainly far more expensive than my own, at the very least. I cannot say more without examining more closely.”

The Pale King nodded with a humm of understanding, before falling silent. During his silence, he stared at Siris. The moth having no idea what was going on, simple stood still and staired back, growing increasingly mote uncomfortable as time went on.

Siris discomfort must have shown, as before long the King covered his mouth with one large sleeve and broke out into a laugh. After laughing for a few seconds, clutching his abdomen, he shook his head and wiped away a tear. “I would have thought that a great Dreamsmith such as yourself would be more Articulate.” he said with amusement still clear in his voice.

Shaking his head, the pale king turned and walked over to one of the journals. “I suppose I should have expected that however, you are after all, quite the recluse.”

'Oh brilliant, he's been listening to the rumors. Of course, most of them are right, I suppose.' Siris thought somewhat tiredly. 'I hope he doesn't think to poorly of me on the words of unsatisfied customers alone . . . and why do I care what he thinks in the first place?' Siris resisted the urge to shake his head as he realized that his respect for the Wyrm had increased by leaps and bounds for no apparent reason. 'Is his aura affecting me that much already?'

“I suppose I should simply cut to the chase, then, shouldn't I?” The Higher being continued unaware of the Moth's thoughts. “I called you here today because the consensus among the moth's, is that you are the single most skilled in applying Dream-craft to more . . . practical, avenues.” the King turned to the dream-smith with a flourish of his robes. “And that is exactly what I find myself in need of at the moment.”

Siris perked up in interest, a wave of relief pass through his body(though he didn't let it show physically). As Ironic as it was, Siris had barely even considered the idea that the Pale King might want him for the same services he offered anyone else who came to him. Not after all the times he had researched forbidden topics and visited restricted areas, anyway.

“Specifically, I need your expertise on the subject of Stasis seals.”

That drew an even more pronounced physical response from the moth, with his freshly groomed antenna perking up. “Oh?”

“Yes. From what I understand, you've managed to create seals capable a seriously slowing, if not outright halting, the decay of any object within there area of affect, is this correct?” The Pale king leaned forward with a somewhat intrigued expression.

“Uh, yes!” Siris was somewhat disturbed by how close the Wyrm had gotten, the light headed feeling from earlier returning with a vengeance, making him feel almost giddy. “I've successfully managed to massively extend the period of functionality for most objects placed within the Stasis. That said, I have yet to full explore their full potential at the moment. I simply have to much to do at any given point to focus on any one project for to long. That said, I have made several members of the upper class rather happy, what with extending their cakes shelf-life by several months.”

The king snorted. “And made a considerable profit, from what I've heard.”

Siris nodded sheepishly and coughed into his fist. “Yes Sir.”

“Of course, I have also heard rumours that you have been experimenting with thought and memory. I'll admit that I find myself intrigued. Tell me, what lead you to that avenue of research?”

Siris found himself speaking almost before his addled mind could process the question. “My old friend Liser wants to explore the lands beyond hallownest. I want to find a way for him to leave the kingdom without loosing his memories the way others do. Thus far my results have been . . . ” it was at this point that the moths instincts screamed at him that telling the king this was a bad idea . . . “somewhat disappointing. I can only store the vaguest impressions of memories and they don't last long. But I suppose nothing worth doing is easy.” He lied cheerfully, each word of his deceit feeling like he was speaking underwater. Somehow, he managed to keep the strain out of his voice, however, maintaining the same excited tone he had started with to the end.

'I hope he didn't notice.' Siris thought nervously. There was no doubt that kings aura was influencing his mind, Siris was never eager to devulge his secrets. In fact, even getting him to refer his friend Lisander as a friend was a chore under normal circumstances. And yet just now, he had referred to him by his nickname to someone who was essentially a total stranger. 'Note to self, research influence of Pale light on thought process.'

“But that means you can isolate individual thoughts and memories, does it not?” the King asked, sounding quite interested at this point. “I would quite like to see your research notes at some point in the near future.”

“Of course you majesty, it would be a pleasure . . . that said, I would like to request that the next time you call upon me, that I be allowed more time to prepare. It is quite difficult to gather such material on short notice, especially if it needs to be kept organized.” Siris bowed his head as he spoke.

“A perfectly fair request, Dreamsmith.” One could detect traces of a smile in the kings voice. “Now, on the matter of those Stasis Seals . . . ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took an annoyingly long time. I blame Avatar fanfics, I've barely been able to put them down long enough to sleep, let alone write. That, and this did not want to be written.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Siris's name is pronounced Cyrus. S-eyeris.


End file.
